


Unexploded

by monimala



Category: The Young and the Restless
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/M, Gap Filler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 02:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11500332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monimala/pseuds/monimala
Summary: What if Abby's meltdown backstage at Nikki and Victor's July 2017 MS benefit had gone differently?Scott tries to say something soothing. To calm her. But Abby just shakes her head, telling him she's a screw up and her father will never take her seriously and. And. And.





	Unexploded

She won't shut up. Her words start to run together into a sentence soup, with no room for breath as her voice goes higher and higher. Every muscle in her body seems locked with tension. A pretty girl in a red dress looking more like a top set to go spinning. Scott tries to say something soothing. To calm her. But Abby just shakes her head, telling him she's a screw up and her father will never take her seriously and. And. And.

He's loath to put his hands on her — god knows, Lauren and boarding school raised him better than that — but he can't think of what else to do besides literally shaking her out of whatever this fit of panic is. So he closes the two feet between them and grips her shoulders. "Abby!" he says, with the kind of firmness he used on sources back in Raqqa. "Snap out of it."

Her eyes are huge, dilated, and he's terrified she's about to hyperventilate. But his tone gets through to the Abby Newman he knows. The prickly diva. His sparring partner. "Don't tell me what to do!" she huffs, breaking off her tirade.

Naturally, he ignores her directive. "Relax," he orders her. The tent is warm, but her bare skin is ice-cold. He can't help but rub his palms across her sharp shoulder blades and then cup her throat, her cheeks. "It's going to be okay. You did not mess this up."

"You don't know that." Abby shudders, but some of the tension drains from her body. He feels her soften under his fingers, Her cheeks go from waxy to silken. And, dammit, he should not be thinking about how her skin feels. Not with Sharon waiting for him outside. But his thumbs work on their own, stroking along her cheekbones and down the line of her jaw.

"I do know that," he says, as pompously as possible. "I know everything, remember?" Ruffling Abby's feathers seems to be his specialty, and it's better than losing her to baseless anxiety.

"Ugh. You're such an asshole." She curls up her fist and hits him. It barely makes an impact, and he has to laugh.

And then he has to kiss her.

Maybe he's the one having some kind of fit. It's the only explanation, right? Why else would he lean forward, still holding her face in his hands, and taste her pouty mouth? It can't be because she looks beautiful even when she's losing her shit. It can't be because there's this _thing_ between them that dances with sparks and fire just like a busted soundboard. It can't be because he wants her.

Abby moans low in her throat, grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket as she scrambles for purchase. And she kisses him back. Even though he's an asshole. Even though he riles her up for the hell of it. Even though someone could walk into this goddamn tent at any time.

Scott's traveled all over the world. Been in war zones. Hell, he was kidnapped by armed militants. But this...? Sliding his hand into her hair and cradling the back of her head? Grinding his pelvis into her hip because, fuck, he's hard and desperate to relieve the sudden pressure? Slanting his lips across hers again and again and tasting her sweet-tart tongue? Wanting to drop to his knees and bury his face between her thighs and see if she's just as sweet and just as tart there? It's the most dangerous thing he's ever known.

So he should stop. Because she's silent now, except for needy, hungry, gasps. She's still now, except for how she restlessly strokes his chest and pushes back against his cock. He's done his good deed. Gotten her off the ledge. But it's not enough. Because he hasn't gotten _her_ off...and he knows he'll be fucking haunted by what that's like. He needs Abby to go up in flames and take him with her. No matter how much ruin it leaves in its wake.

Fuck. _Fuck_. He tears his mouth from hers with what feels like Herculean effort and presses a kiss to her temple. This is not who he is. This can't be who he is. Arrogant, yes. Confident, yes. Reckless...? No. "I'm sorry."

Abby just looks at him, her eyes the calm blue-grey of the ocean after a wicked storm. And she says the two words that damn them both: "I'm not."

 

\--end--


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